


The One Where They're in Quarantine

by thestanceyg



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestanceyg/pseuds/thestanceyg
Summary: Darcy was supposed to be subletting his apartment, but now they're stuck there together for the long haul.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Spencer Reid
Comments: 25
Kudos: 346





	The One Where They're in Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/gifts).



> Many happy wishes to Dresupi!! Happy birthday, darling!

“Well this is awkward.”

Awkward was an understatement. She had rented his apartment through a mutual friend. He was supposed to be gone for a semester and now…well, now they were roommates?

“I can try to make it more awkward if you’d like,” she offered with a small grin.

He smiled. At least that was a start. She couldn’t imagine being stuck in self isolation with someone that couldn’t even crack a smile at a simple joke.

“I’d be interested in that.”

She nodded as though this was a very serious conversation because, in a way, it was. “You  _ are _ aware that there’s only one bed, right?”

His blush was bright, and she caught herself thinking that it was kind of adorable.

He sputtered a bit before saying, “You’re right.”

“Any thoughts about that? Because I don’t mind sharing as long as you’re not a blanket hog, but also we met like a day ago, sooo…..”

In all actuality, she wasn’t sure how she felt about possibly sharing a bed with him. He certainly wasn’t bad to look at, and she had spent a lot of time grilling Penelope about the guy she was going to sublet from. And Garcia, in all her perfect glory, had included a very thorough (and possibly not quite legal) background check. They had emailed back and forth a bit before coming to an agreement. She was showing up a week before her seminar and then would be staying for eight weeks. He was supposed to be heading out to Berkley to teach a special one-off course. For the first few days of their overlap, she had been with Penelope, but she was now in his apartment. They had agreed to spend a few days together going over the few things he was going to require of her (like taking care of his plants) and dealing with utilities and such. 

She had been there about thirty hours when the shelter in place had been issued. Berkley had switched to online coursework, and now both of them were stuck here for the foreseeable future. 

“One bed. Right,” he said. She had been sleeping on the couch, which wasn’t terrible, but she wasn’t really interested in doing it for weeks on end.

“We could alternate nights? If you’re not comfortable sharing that is?”

“I’m just kind of... I don’t like touching much,” he finally said. She had noticed that. He hadn’t wanted to shake when they first met. It didn’t really bother her. She didn’t really like having to touch strangers either. 

“Alternating sounds good,” he agreed. 

“Ummm, I’m technically in one of the high risk groups,” she said, looking past his shoulder. She didn’t like discussing her medical history. “Is it a problem that I’d prefer you do the grocery runs?”

“Not at all. Are you okay? Do you need me to go to the pharmacy?”

This. This was why she had finally been convinced. He was just such a genuine person. “I’m good right now, but, yeah, I’ll probably need you to do a med run at some point. I know this is technically only an order for the next two weeks, but I think we both know it’s going to last longer than that.”

He, of course, wouldn’t be heading to Berkley at all. He’d do his entire course through distance learning now. She could probably head home, but she didn’t have an apartment back there. She had given it up when she came out here for this seminar. She had been hoping to do some serious networking and possibly even move to the city. She had plans to spend her free time looking for jobs and a place of her own. So she was definitely stuck here for the long run. They’d have to learn how to get along.

“Are you doing your class at a certain time or asynchronously?” she asked, changing the subject. 

“Live,” he answered with a bit of a frown. “It will be Tuesdays and Thursdays from one to three.”

“Why the frown?”

He sighed. “I’m not great with technology,” he admitted. “Not terrible, but I’m not sure how well this will go.”

“Well then it’s a good thing you have me!” she said brightly. “I’m great with tech. Well, not like Penelope great, but certainly better than average. I can make sure you’re good to go.”

“Really?”

“Of course! Besides, I have to keep my grocery boy happy,” she said with a wink.

He smiled at her, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, this would work out.

* * *

Darcy had her papers spread out over the low coffee table. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the couch. She had highlighters and pens all over, and she was typing frantically at her laptop, working on a paper. She had decided to use her “free” time to work on writing up a paper for publication that she had been putting off. 

“Darcy?” Spencer called.

She threw up a finger telling him to give her a minute as she finished the sentence she was on and added the citation. She shoved her pen back into her bun and walked over to the desk where he was sitting, his own laptop open.

“Yeah?” 

“They’re telling me they can’t hear me,” he said, gesturing at the screen. 

This was his third class, and they had yet to have a time when everything worked start to finish. 

“Tell them you might have to restart and give me a sec to work on it,” she said. 

He typed into the little chat box and then moved out of the way. She quickly slid into his chair and got to work, her fingers flying over the keys and her eyes quickly taking in the information displaying across the screen. It took maybe two minutes before she thought she had a solution.

“Hey, can you comment in the chat if you can hear me now?” She asked, her eyes quickly scanning over to the chat log where someone had very clearly been talking about how hot the “tech assistant” was. Her eyes widened at it before the message was hidden by a flood of “we can hear you now” messages.

“Alright. Back to Dr. Reid then,” she said, quickly getting out of his way.

She sat back down at her own laptop and thought about why the message had startled her. She knew that she was an attractive woman. She was more cute than sexy, but she had her fair share of dates. She looked over her shoulder back at Spencer who was lecturing once again. That’s it. That was the problem. A student had said it, not him. She had been living with him for two weeks now if you had started counting with the first day she came, before the order came down. And during that time one thing had become painfully clear to her: Dr. Spencer Reid was Her Type. Capital letters necessary. He had been kind and funny and considerate. He had gone on a grocery run and come home with some peanut butter cups because he remembered she said she liked them. He was fairly clean. The dishes might stay in the sink until the next morning and his notes might be spread out everywhere, but his mess was the same kind of mess she had. They had finally settled into a routine that worked for them, and she was feeling pretty comfortable with him.

But then there were the things he did that made living with him a special sort of torture. They were alternating sleeping in the bed, and the way the pillow smelled of him drove her crazy. Who would have guessed that the nerdy doctor could smell so good? And the way he always made her a cup of coffee along with his as soon as he learned how she liked it? Not even Jane had done that for her in the years they spent together. He would ask her about her research and be genuinely interested. Just yesterday he had suggested a resource she hadn’t heard of and it had been dead useful. Darcy was starting to fall for her roommate and it was a problem.

* * *

Spencer wasn’t sure how he got into this mess, but he was kind of glad he had. When Garcia had basically begged him to sublet to her friend while he was at Berkley, he hadn’t really thought he would say yes. Of course having someone at the apartment would make it less likely that someone would think to break in, and that also meant he didn’t need anyone to take care of his plants or his fish, but it still felt strange. But then he had started exchanging emails with Darcy and it just felt right. Of course it didn’t hurt that Garcia had also given him a full background on the woman he was going to let into his space so he had no real questions about her character. But even through just words she was sparkling. He looked forward to hearing back from her. In fact, he might have manufactured the excuse that he wanted to go over feeding his plants and fish to finagle a few days with her before he left for California. And that choice led to now.

Now being him very much smitten with his beautiful quarantine partner. She was considerate that the apartment was his space, but she just sort of melted into each room, and even though it was no longer all his, it still felt like home. It had somehow easily become theirs, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that. 

And then she had helped him with his online course, and he had to admit he was impressed by her competence. She quickly helped him with whatever problem he was having without belittling him or making him feel inadequate in any way.

Which was how he ended up with no idea how to respond to this question posed to him at the end of his lecture today. 

_ What does your wife do? Is it something technical since she’s always fixing your computer? _

He looked at the question and tried to decide how best to answer. His eyes darted over to Darcy who seemed to be engrossed in her research, but he had quickly learned that just because it doesn’t look like she’s paying attention doesn’t mean she isn’t.

“Darcy is a research assistant,” he settled on, completely ignoring the part where they asked about his wife. He didn’t want to try and explain how they ended up living together. Was he allowing them to make assumptions about his ability to get a beautiful woman to give him the time of day? Yes. But his marital status was easy enough to look up, so if they really wanted to know, they could have researched him well before this.

Oh lord, what if they  _ had _ looked him up and were wondering how he would respond to them calling someone his wife? Shit.

Whatever. It’s not like he was going to see them again.

He disconnected from the web conference and closed the program but didn’t get up from his desk. Living with Darcy had been surprisingly easy. It was like they had been doing it forever. He actually wasn’t looking forward to her leaving and going back to being on his own. That was not something he would have thought was likely just three weeks ago, but here he was. 

He had also been starting to touch her more. Small things. He’d hand her something and their fingers would brush. He’d hold out his hand to help her up off the floor when they went to make dinner. He had placed a hand on her shoulder as he squeezed past her in the bathroom in the morning. And she, lovely, wonderful Darcy, had taken him at face value and never initiated touching that she hadn’t either gotten him to agree to or that he could move away from before she made contact. But she had caught on to his slowly crumbling walls and now was also touching him in tiny ways too.

It thrilled him.

He was such a disaster. There was no way that a woman like Darcy would ever be interested in a man like him. Hell, he was just waxing poetic about touching her shoulder. What a loser. She was perfect and he didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

Darcy wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t the virus, but a flare up. She groaned. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. She hadn’t had one in months. Her doctor had even thought that maybe this was a sign that their current course of treatment was working. And maybe it was working, but that didn’t change that she was annoyed that it was happening. She was sluggish and found getting out of the bed difficult. She laid there for a moment, trying to get into the mindset that would allow her to get to the bathroom and start her day. 

Her feet hit the floor and she groaned. It was going to be one of those days; the ones where the pain clouded her head. She wasn’t aware of how, but she got herself through her morning routine and made it to the kitchen to start the coffee. She always made the coffee for both of them in the morning because she was, surprisingly, more of a morning person than Spencer. He always made the afternoon cups. This morning, though, he had beat her. 

“Darcy?” he asked, his voice unsure. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” she mumbled, flopping down into one of the chairs and pulling her mug toward her. She took a sip. He had done an excellent job remembering how she took her first cup. (Always twice as much sugar for the first cup than the next two she would have during the day.)

She was surprised to feel his very cool hand against her forehead. “You’re burning up,” he said.

“‘S normal,” she said, the caffeine starting to do its work. “I’ll have a fever for the next day, and I should be fine in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

He sat across from her, his brows scrunched in concern. “This happen a lot?”

“Not so much anymore. The new meds seem to be working, but they’re not a cure.”

“How can I help?”

She thought about it. She’d never really had anyone to take care of her in the past when she had a flare up. Not since she lived at home. 

“It’s honestly easiest for me to just stay in bed and sleep through as much of it as possible. Sometimes I take a hot bath to help with the aching muscles”

“Then what are you doing out here?” he asked. “Get back to bed.” She reached for her mug. “No, leave that. I’ll bring it to you.”

She stumbled a bit when she stood up and he was instantly at her side. Without a word he helped her back to the bedroom. As soon as she was situated, he went back and grabbed her coffee and her laptop.”Do you want your research notes too?”

She shook her head. “I’m always a bit fuzzy when this happens. I won’t be able to do any good work.”

He accepted this with a nod. “Okay. call me if you need anything, alright?”

She detected actual concern in his voice. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving her a look that said she better not argue.

“Thank you Spence,” she said with a small smile.

* * *

Spencer was in hell. He was pretty sure of it. Where else would his lovely, beautiful, witty, perfect roommate be in the bath and calling him to come help her? He slowly pushed the door open and let out a small sigh of relief. She wasn’t naked. She was in...her underwear? A bikini? He actually wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t naked.

“Sorry,” she said, her cheeks red. “I just am having trouble standing up.” She held her hands out to him. “Do you mind?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he said, immediately feeling bad for thinking about all the skin on display when she was sick and in need of help. He grabbed her hands and carefully helped her stand, wrapping one arm around her waist while he grabbed her a towel, and then continued holding her hand as she stepped out of the tub.

“Thanks,” she said, and he realized that was his cue to let go of her. He was surprised to realize he didn’t want to. He dropped her hand anyway.

“Any time,” he said before awkwardly looking around the bathroom and then deciding he needed out of there. “I’ll umm, be in the kitchen. If you need me. But I’m guessing you’re good now. I’ll, uhh, be making dinner?” He didn’t mean to make it sound like a question. He turned on his heel and fled to the safety of the kitchen.

* * *

Darcy was feeling so much better that she had awoken earlier than normal and went straight to the kitchen, planning to make a spectacular breakfast as a way to thank Spencer for all he had done for her the last two days. She got out everything to make French toast, remembering that her roommate had a sweet tooth. She went about cooking with practiced motions, her hands practically on autopilot while her mind wandered.

Spencer had been good to her; more than, in fact. He had practically catered to her for two days while her body fought itself. He had even shown her some messages from his students when he had explained she was sick and couldn’t help with his problem-of-the-day; all of them wishing her better soon. And when he had helped her out of the bath! His hands, though always respectful, had set her on fire. If she closed her eyes, she could almost still feel his fingers trailing over her waist. In fact…

“Sorry,” Spencer murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. “Just trying to get to the coffee.”

She felt herself shiver a bit under his touch and turned to face him just as he was leaning forward, and her face brushed against his. She froze for just a second before looking up at him.

He looked down at her, his own eyes wide. There was nowhere for her to go with her back against the counter and him right in front of her, so she couldn’t move from his touch even though she thought that was what he wanted. But then she looked at his eyes and his wide pupils and she decided to be reckless and brushed her lips against his cheek.

“Morning,” she said, her voice practically a whisper.

He licked his lips. “Good morning,” he said, his voice still rough, though she could tell it wasn’t from still waking up.

Her timer went off and cut whatever tension had been building. “I, err, made breakfast?” she said, maneuvering under his arm to flip the bread out of the pan and onto a plate.

“You didn’t have to—” he started to say.

“I wanted to. As a thank you,” she cut him off. “You really went above and beyond for me the last few days.”

“It was nothing,” he demurred, taking his coffee mug around to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Well it wasn’t nothing to me,” she said. “You certainly did better than my last boyfriend,” she added with a snort, and then mortification as she realized what she just said.

“Then I’m glad he’s an ex,” Spencer said, not missing a beat. “It wasn’t hard or an inconvenience. I was happy to do it.”

Darcy slid a plate in front of him. “Well thank you all the same,” she said.

She was so fucked.

* * *

Spencer was so fucked. 

He wanted, desperately, to kiss his roommate. He knew Morgan would assume it had started when he had touched her soft skin when helping her from the bath, but it actually had been the following morning when she had kissed his cheek while he unintentionally crowded her, and he found himself wishing she had missed his cheek and had landed on his lips. And then she had made him breakfast and wouldn’t let him clean anything for a week. All because she felt like she needed to repay his kindness when she was ill. As though him being not-an-asshole was something worth rewarding. For some reason it bothered him that she felt that way. But in a protective way. 

He was such a mess.

* * *

He was sitting so close to her that she could feel his warmth seeping through her clothes. She tried to focus on the movie they were watching (French, this time, as she spoke it and didn’t need subtitles like when they watched the Russian one last week). But try as she might, all she could think about was how he was so close and she wanted him closer still.

His hand brushed her arm as he reached for some popcorn from the bowl in her lap and she lost it. 

_ Fuck it _ , she thought and turned to face him.

“Darcy?” he asked, his eyes leaving the movie to look at her.

“I really want to kiss you, Spencer Reid,” she said, trying to read his face. “And if you don't want to kiss me, that’s fine. We will both just turn back to the movie and forget I said anything, but— “

“I do,” he quickly said, “want to kiss you, that is.”

“Oh thank Frigga,” she said before unceremoniously dropping the bowl of popcorn onto the seat cushion next to her and taking his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his. It wasn’t earth-shattering, but instead simple, and perfect in its own little way, much like Spencer. 

When she pulled away she looked at him carefully to gauge his thoughts.

“Can we do that again?” he asked, a small smile playing at his lips.

“As much as you like,” she said, smiling herself before leaning in once again.


End file.
